It Started With a Punch
by MidnightThief15
Summary: After their fateful contact in third year, everything changed. Something happened, and neither of them can ignore their pull to each other. Now Hermione and Draco journey through the question of what is real and what isn't, and if, in the end, that question and its answer even matter.
1. One

**::one:: **

_Third Year_

Hermione glared at the floor ahead of her as she walked, not caring who she ran into in the corridor. Stupid Divination and that stupid crackpot professor. Class earlier had not been the first time that she had been both humiliated and enraged by that teacher, but the fact made her no less angry.

She wished she could just punch everyone she was upset at. Oh how wonderful it had felt the other day to give Malfoy what he deserved. She'd do it again in a heartbeat. Although, no matter what state she was in, she still found herself shocked and appalled at the very notion of attacking a professor, even if it was someone like that talentless loon.

"Hey, watch it!" someone said from behind Hermione, someone she had just collided shoulders with. She paid them no mind and ignored the sudden throbbing in her right shoulder. Whoever it was didn't call her out on her poor behavior, and Hermione found herself only a couple corridors away from the Gryffindor tower in no time.

It was the end of classes for the day, and Hermione was beyond exhausted from her double-classes, thanks to her handy time-turner.

There was a crack in the tile that Hermione was staring at, and when she had almost gotten to it, she suddenly found herself slammed into a nearby wall, her books dropped and forgotten on the floor and a dull ache in her back. She bit her lip as her poor shoulder contacted with the stone wall and squeezed her eyes shut.

Feeling breath on her face, Hermione ventured to open her eyes and turn her head to look up at her assaulter.

Angry grey eyes penetrated her brown ones, and Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"Malfoy," she spat, like it was a curse word. She looked around behind his head and shoulders and found that they were the only living souls in the corridor. Where were all the Gryffindors that were usually loitering around on their way up to the tower?

Malfoy's hands were balled into fists around the fabric of her sweater just below her shoulders. He brought her forward a little, and then slammed her harshly back into the wall.

Tears sprung to Hermione's eyes when her head made contact with the wall and a gasp escaped her lips.

"Mudblood," Malfoy said lowly, like it was something dirty in his mouth.

Hermione's hands instantly found Malfoy's chest and began to push him away. "Let me go." She said angrily.

He spoke as if he hadn't heard her, and he ignored the hands on his chest. "You know what I think?"

"Didn't know you _could_ think." She muttered, interrupting him when he had not left a pause for her to speak.

He slammed her against the wall again and she squeezed her eyes shut in pain.

"I think you need to be taught a lesson." He spoke softly—although not kindly—and Hermione reluctantly opened her eyes to find his face very, very close to her own.

"What could you teach me that I don't already know?" she asked defiantly, mockingly, hinting to what they both knew: she was first in all of their shared classes, and he always came second or third in the line, sometimes—rarely though—even after _Potter_.

Malfoy glared at her, but thankfully didn't slam her into the wall again. Instead, he unknotted his hands from her shirt and slid them down her arms, giving Hermione chills. He smirked when he saw her shudder. His fingers grasped her wrists and gripped them so tightly that Hermione yelped in both pain and surprise.

Yes, Hermione could throw a decent punch when she caught the other person off guard, but the fact of the matter was that Draco Malfoy was male, and as such, he was stronger. End of story.

Hermione watched with wide eyes as Malfoy moved her wrists to her side, and kept them there with his tight grip. She looked around frantically for someone—anyone—to walk by and save her.

Her gaze caught Malfoy's, and she began to panic.

"What are you going to do?" She hated how fearful and pathetic her voice sounded. What had happened to the girl who, only days ago, had sent Malfoy to the infirmary with a bloody nose?

He smirked at her frantic expression and her voice and leaned in a little bit. Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she stared at him with wide eyes. "I already told you," he murmured lowly. "I'm going to teach you a lesson in something you've never dabbled in before."

"Wha—"

Hermione's eyes practically popped out of her head as Malfoy's lips met hers, and shivers went down her spine. They stared at each other as their lips continued to touch.

Besides the fact that this was _Malfoy_ that was doing such an intimate thing with her, the most surprising thing about the kiss was that it wasn't rough or harsh or needy or sloppy, like she had always imagined her first kiss to be—she had only recently developed a slight something for her redheaded best friend and had daydreamed of what it would be like to kiss him—but, instead, it was soft, gentle. She had not known that Malfoy was capable of such…vulnerability. She didn't know how else to put it.

Malfoy slowly pulled back—Hermione didn't know how long it had been since he had first leaned in; her mind still wasn't working right—and stared down at her lips. Hermione noticed that she no longer felt any pressure on her wrists, even though his hands were still there, and, just as she thought that, Malfoy's right hand left her wrist and traveled up her arm, shoulder, and neck, until his thumb was gently coasting over Hermione's bottom lip, which was hanging down slightly.

His grey eyes looked back up at hers and he smirked suddenly.

"Bet you've never learned that before." He said cockily.

Hermione sucked in a breath through her mouth—careful not to suck in his thumb—and her breath came out ragged.

"W-Why?" she could barely form that word alone, she was so shaken up. Her stomach was pounding in her chest, and her lungs were dancing from the breaths she was taking.

His smirk suddenly looked rather cruel to Hermione as he spoke, "I've never kissed a mudblood before."

Hermione's senses came back to her all at once, and she glared, her free left hand flying to Malfoy's face as she punched him for the second time.

Caught off guard, Malfoy jumped back, clutching his eye as he groaned.

Hermione angrily walked over and scooped up her books before stomping off, her hair flouncing behind her.

She'd dream about this tonight, she already knew, and many nights after that. He was the very last person she had ever wanted in her dreams.

Stupid, cocky, arrogant git.

* * *

**Not the first Dramoine fic I've ever started, but the first to appear on this site. This came to me out of no where when I got the urge to read a fic about what happened AFTER Hermione punched Draco in 3rd year, and, since I couldn't really find any, I made one myself. :) This was going to be a one-shot, but then I decided to continue it, because I really wanted to see what happened next. I've already got the second chapter written but I'm not going to put that up right away.**

**Hope you liked this, and the second chapter will be coming up soon. :D**


	2. Two

**::two::**

_Fourth Year_

Hermione stood in the main corridor outside of the Great Hall, grinning from ear to ear as she caught her breath. It had gotten too crowded in there, and she had stepped out a moment to cool herself down from all the dancing she had been doing.

Even though Ron hadn't asked her to the Yule Ball as she had hoped, she was having an excellent time with Viktor. He was a wonderful dancer, and was so fun to be around, always making her laugh.

She could tell that she was practically glowing out there on the dance floor. The fact that Ron just sat there and watched the other dancers glumly with his date made her even more ecstatic, even though she knew it was mean for her to feel elated from his misery.

Hermione put a hand to her forehead as she took a deep breath, letting a giggle escape her throat again.

"Having a good time?"

Hermione spun around in her pink dress, and found that even the sight of Draco Malfoy could not wipe the grin from her face.

"Yes," she replied merrily, "and not even you can ruin it."

He stared at her, looking her over. "Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear. "You do look rather nice," he said, louder, before adding, "For a mudblood, that is."

Despite what she had said, Hermione let the grin fade from her face. She stared at Malfoy, suddenly very self-conscious. She noticed how his blonde hair was combed away from his face instead of slicked back, and how he looked very sharp and attractive in his formal attire. She could not deny that Malfoy was good-looking—every girl in Hogwarts felt that way about him. His looks had begun to advance in third year, and they just kept on advancing.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione asked calmly. She didn't feel comfortable, being alone with him, even if there was a crowded room just a door away. She had never felt comfortable being in his presence alone, even before the…event that had taken place last year. Luckily she usually had Ron or Harry or both with her when she encountered his presence.

Malfoy's eyes left her body to travel up to meet hers. "You don't bloody own the place, Granger," he spat before looking around the corridor. "I can come out here if I want to."

Hermione sighed. She didn't want him to ruin such a wonderful night for her. "Whatever, Malfoy," she said, fully intent on leaving him out here alone as she joined the festivities inside the Great Hall once more.

However, it appeared that Malfoy had other plans, for when she was about to pass him, he grabbed her wrist and spun her away from the direction of the doors and into his chest, his arm wrapped around her waist and her back to him.

"Care for dancing, Granger?" his hot breath on her ear made shivers run down her spine, and her breath caught in her throat. Her mouth suddenly felt very dry.

She squeezed her eyes shut for just a second before opening them again, having found her will-power once more, and pulling away from Malfoy and out of his reach.

She took a few steps away from him, her chest heaving from her panic and the way being around Malfoy made her stomach clench, as opposed to the flutters she got when she was around Ron.

"Leave me alone, Malfoy."

He cocked his head to the side, not looking at all put-off that she had turned him down for a "dance"—if that was even what he had been implying that he wanted—before walking forward a few steps.

"You don't really mean that." He said, his face blank, almost faux-innocent looking.

"Yes," she said, having trouble finding her voice. She cleared her throat before continuing. "Yes, I do."

The feel of the solid, stone wall behind her made Hermione inwardly groan. This was turning out to be too much like the previous year, except she didn't have any bumps or bruises forming—yet.

Malfoy's hands slammed into the wall on either side of Hermione's head, the abrupt action startling her and making her jump slightly.

Hermione couldn't help but stare at Malfoy's face—which, by the way, was way too close for comfort. Was he really going to repeat last year's event? She had thought that it was meant to be more of a cruel joke than anything else, and she had never expected him to do it again—except, maybe, in her much-unwanted dreams.

"Please," her voice came out as nothing more than a whisper. "Don't do this." She couldn't believe that she was begging Draco Malfoy, of all people. But, as the saying goes, desperate times called for desperate measures.

A small batch of fear erupted in Hermione's stomach at the expression that Malfoy was displaying—a serious look, like the kind that a predator would give when eying its prey right before the attack.

Hermione's hands gripped the stones on either side of her, Malfoy's arms making it impossible for her to escape. She stared with wide eyes, helpless and immobile, as he leaned his head closer, tilting it ever so slightly.

"You may not enjoy my company," he murmured, his eyes trained on her red lips, "but you'll enjoy this."

And just like that Draco Malfoy's lips made contact with Hermione's for the second time in her life—which was two times too many in her opinion.

Something about this kiss was different, though. It wasn't the experimental kiss that they had had in third year. This year, Malfoy was more confident in his action, his eyes closed and his kissing a bit more passionate and experienced, his experience enough to cover for the both of them.

Hermione couldn't combat the feel of her eyelids drooping, and soon her eyes were closed. Malfoy's kissing was so…unexplainable, that she responded timidly and lightly, forgetting who he was in that moment.

Just when Hermione was about to run out of breath, Malfoy pulled away, and Hermione's eyes fluttered open, only to be met with his grey ones immediately. Her breath came in and out shakily, and she couldn't help but stare at him, her lips parted slightly.

Malfoy smirked, similar to the previous year after the kiss, and said, "Going to punch me again now?"

Before Hermione could even think of replying, someone else did for her, "No, but I will."

Taken by surprise, Malfoy turned around just in time to see Viktor's fist before it collided into his face.

Malfoy was left cradling his face while Hermione took Viktor's arm and they returned together to the dance.

And just like that, Malfoy so easily ruined the rest of the Yule Ball for Hermione, and the dreams she had the entire month afterward.

That git.

* * *

**I had to giggle to myself at Viktor's punching Draco. :D Poor guy just can't catch a break. And not his wonderful face! :(**

**Hope you liked this chapter. :D I know that Hermione's attitude is very different in this chapter compared to last chapter, and the reason behind that is both that in the first chapter, she was already upset when Malfoy confronted her, and in here she was so happy and giddy beforehand that she just couldn't find the anger within her. That, and she already knew what to expect, though she hardly dared to believe it.**

**And, unfortunately for poor Malfoy, there are more punches to come in the following chapters. :D Hey, it's not called _It Started With a Punch _for nothing. ^_^**


	3. Three

**::three::**

_Fifth Year, Part 1_

"Granger!"

Hermione turned around in the nearly empty corridor to see the blonde-haired Slytherin walking toward her, a haughty air about him as usual. Only a few turns away from the library, most students weren't around due to it being a Hogsmead weekend.

Hermione instinctively stopped, only slightly intrigued by why he might need her. But really, she did it more out of habit. It was incredibly impolite to walk away on someone when they wanted to talk to you, and Hermione's parents had drilled manners into her very, very long ago. Over the years at Hogwarts, however, there _had_ been instances where she had…ignored these teachings (most of them when being in the presence of people she disliked).

"I'm in no mood to humor you, Malfoy. And this time I've got my wand ready, and we both know that I know some pretty nasty spells. So, whatever it is that you want, make it quick." Hermione said dryly.

Malfoy stopped a couple feet in front of her, and Hermione leaned on her right leg in annoyance and impatience.

"You're going to tell me where it is that you and your little friends run off to. We all know that something's going on, with _Potter_" he spat the word, "most likely at the head."

Hermione eyed the shiny _Inquisitorial Squad _badge on Malfoy's robes and snorted in a most unlady-like fashion. "What makes you think that I'd _ever_ tell you _anything_?"

"Professor Umbridge isn't above Veritasserum." Malfoy threatened, his face entirely serious.

"Dumbledore would never allow something like that to happen." Hermione said defiantly, glaring at the cool and calm Slytherin.

"Well Dumbledore doesn't hold the power and authority in his hands anymore, now does he?" And there it was: Malfoy's arrogant, cocky smirk. Hermione wanted to curse it off of his face the second it appeared. She ignored the feeling in her stomach that told her she also wanted to do something entirely different as well.

"You can't make me do anything, Malfoy." Hermione told him, glaring daggers into his pretty-boy face. "Without your grunts backing you up, you've got nothing. You probably can't remember half a dozen spells, let alone beat me in a duel."

"For a goody-goody Gryffindor, you sure do have a Slytherin personality." Malfoy said, a slight smirk on his face, his eyes challenging.

"Take that back!" shouted Hermione angrily. "I'm nothing like you low-lives. And you want to know why? It's because instead of doing whatever is advantageous for only me, I put the needs of my friends before my own. I wouldn't expect _you_ to understand something like that though."

Malfoy got a murderous look on his face all of a sudden, and said in a grave voice, "You _are_ going to tell me what's going on, whether you like it or not. No one will ever have to find out if I have to use an Unforgivable to get you to speak."

Hermione gave a humorless laugh. "You'd be too afraid to use an Unforgivable. Beneath your haughty and 'tough' exterior, you're just pathetic and weak on the inside." She knew she was crossing a line with that one.

And, as it turned out, she had. She hadn't merely stepped over the line—she'd leapt.

In his anger Malfoy raised his wand quickly and sent a spell her way.

"Protego," Hermione said, and his spell deflated into nothing after hitting her shield.

This only enraged Malfoy more. "You stupid mudblood _slut_." He shouted, overemphasizing the last word, before sending another curse at her.

Hermione was momentarily stunned, and so she was hit by his spell and went flying down the corridor. She lay strewn on her back on the cold tile, but she was still frozen by what he said.

He had called her a _slut. Her_ a slut! She had never before been called something so vile, and, even if it was _him_ who had said it, it still hurt her feelings a bit.

Hermione glared at the ceiling as she attempted to get up. Feelings? She was in the middle of her fifth year, almost an adult, and she was getting her _feelings_ hurt? How pathetic was she?

Hermione weakly stood up and glared at Malfoy. "Who are you to call _me_ a slut?" she shouted, outraged.

Malfoy was walking toward her. "I see you—we _all_ see you—staring wistfully at that ginger idiot, day-in and day-out. For _years_ now. It's _sickening_."

"That does _not_ make me a slut!" She shouted. "You're the one who's slept with half the Slytherin girls, and have made your way to a good number of girls in the other houses!"

Malfoy stopped, his eyes wide, shocked for some reason. However, it only lasted a couple seconds, and once he had recovered, he seemed more furious than he had before.

"You actually _believe_ those outrageous rumors?" he asked incredulously.

"Who's to say that they aren't true?" Hermione countered. "I'm sure the girls all just fall weak in the knees when you talk to them."

"Oh, yeah, I can see you practically _wobbling_ with desire right now." Malfoy bit sarcastically. "You must be overpowered with the urge to jump me right here and now."

Hermione scowled at him. "This isn't funny."

"Who's laughing?" Malfoy asked dryly. "And, for your information—though it's nowhere _near_ being any of your business—I'm still a virgin."

Hermione's cheeks instantly colored. "You are?" she asked in a small voice.

"Back to the original topic," Malfoy said, walking toward her. "Professor Umbridge and Filch both know for a fact that something's going on with Potter and your lot, and anything involving Potter _always_ turns out to be bad. So we are going to put a stop to it before anything gets out of hand and something unfortunate happens."

"Harry is my best friend," Hermione said seriously, hands balled into fists at her sides as she stood her ground firmly. "I'd never rat him out, especially to someone like _you_."

Malfoy looked at her in mock hurt, and he put a hand over his heart. "Ouch. Have our kisses meant nothing to you?"

Hermione just couldn't figure this guy out. He was like a whirlwind of emotions. One minute he was this, the next he was that, after that he was this. It was almost too confusing to keep up. What was Malfoy's problem? Multiple personality disorder? He should be in St. Mungo's, not here.

"I'd rather kiss my cat than kiss you." Hermione said stiffly.

"Come now," Malfoy said, still displaying mock hurt on his face, "that really hurts."

Hermione glared at him. "I wish it would." She said, and then turned her back on him. "Go be a man-whore somewhere else. I've got better things to do."

She barely dodged the curse sent her way as she turned a corner on her excruciating trip to the library.

"I'll get you back for that Granger." She heard him say from around the corner.

"I'll believe that when I see it." Hermione called back to him without looking behind her. She seriously needed some quiet time alone in the library with all of those glorious books to forget every ounce of her encounter with Malfoy.

However, both for the remainder of the walk to the library and for the entire time that she was in the library, she could not take her mind off of the topic of Draco Malfoy. And, to her horror, she couldn't keep her mind from thinking of the very things that were highly inappropriate for someone like her to think of about someone like him.

He couldn't possibly be a virgin. It's not like it was unheard of for Slytherins to lie—other than backstabbing and insulting, it's what they do best. Besides, if he was a virgin, he'd never have been so forward and experienced in their two…in _his_ two assaults on her person.

Hermione tapped her dry quill on empty parchment paper that was supposed to be her essay for Potions as she stared off at the old, dusty tomes in front of the table she was sitting at.

Was it just her imagination, or was he getting better looking by the year?

How dare he.

* * *

**What? There was no lip-to-lip contact in this chapter? No beloved punch to Draco's "pretty-boy" face? HOW COULD I?**

**Lol. So...yeah. No kiss this chapter. There was going to be. I don't exactly know what happened, because there was supposed to be a kiss, but then the chapter decided to disagree with the idea to add a kiss in. -sigh- Oh well. The chapter does what the chapter wants. And right now, the chapter wants you to review and tell it what you think. ;)**

**(P.S. Sorry if I misspelled any of the Harry Potter world words. I didn't know them exactly off the top of my head, they aren't in my spell check on my Microsoft Word, and I was too lazy to look them up. XD)**


	4. Four

**::four::**

_Fifth Year, Part 2_

If there was one place that Hermione Granger did not want to be at the moment, it was here, alone with Draco Malfoy on their last day at Hogwarts before summer holiday. Hermione wouldn't see many of her friends again until autumn, when her sixth year would begin, and she would much rather spend her time wishing them farewell than alternating between glaring and ignoring the blonde Slytherin.

Because they both were such good, _responsible_ students, they were charged with checking on the animals that Hagrid kept near his hut. Said giant was nowhere to be seen, probably already in the Great Hall, talking amongst the other professors before the feast began.

"I don't understand _what_ exactly I did to cause you to ignore me." Malfoy complained as they neared the cages.

"It's the fact that you're such a stupid, no-good, rotten, bloody Slytherin that's the problem—the fact that you're a _Malfoy_ that's the problem." She spat angrily as she stomped her way over to one cage.

"Hey," Malfoy defended bitterly, "it's not like _I'm_ the one who killed Potter's Godfather."

Hermione paused, wondering how on Earth he had found out. It really shouldn't have been a surprise, though. His aunt probably had written him a letter, wanting to share the _wonderful_ news and congratulating herself for having killed Sirius Black.

Hermione spun around to face Malfoy as she glared at him so hard she wanted him to burst into flames. "It doesn't matter whether it was you or your deranged aunt! I still hate you and your entire family and I want absolutely _nothing_ to do with you!"

Malfoy glared at her in return. "It's not like he was related to any of you."

"So?" Hermione practically yelled. "He was still a good friend of ours and it is absolutely _killing_ Harry now that he's gone."

"May I repeat that this has _nothing_ to do with _me_?" he said through gritted teeth. "Do you think I care whether or not Potter's sulking somewhere? The answer is no, I don't. Does it make a difference to me who my aunt has killed this time? No, it doesn't. Does it bother me that you're taking this all out on me? Yes, it very well does. So shut up about the subject of Potter's dead Godfather, and stop bloody blaming me for his death, which, let me repeat one final time, _I had nothing to do with._"

Hermione's jaw fell open sometime during Malfoy's speech.

"You arrogant, slimy, foul, disgusting ferret!" shrieked Hermione.

"Oh get off of your high horse, Granger." Malfoy sneered, undeterred by her string of insults. "What makes you think you're so much better than me? Hmm? You and Potter and Weasel all trot around Hogwarts like you're all _so_ special." Malfoy then proceeded to "mimic" Harry in a high voice and with a funny expression on his face, "Oh, I'm Harry Potter, I'm the Boy-Who-Lived. I'm Dumbledore's _favorite_ student, I won the Triwizard Tournament last year, and Gryffindor always wins the House Cup because of me, the best seeker in the _entire _world. All bow down before the almighty Harry Potter, because I'm _so_ much better than you all are."

If he had been mocking anyone else, Hermione might have found Malfoy's act comedic, but she only glared at him as he made fun of Harry.

"Shut up before I _make_ you shut up." Hermione growled.

"Oh no, I'm _so_ scared that a mudblood girl is going to hex me—or worse, punch me!" Malfoy said sarcastically. "Well there's no Viktor Krum to 'save' you this time, and your friends are all getting ready for the feast. And just because you're Harry Potter's girlfriend, it most certainly does _not_ give you the right to accuse anyone you like of thing that they most certainly did _not_ do."

Red instantly colored Hermione's cheeks. "What is with you? Last year you called me a slut because of my liking of Ron more than a friend, and now you have the nerve to make the assumption that I'm Harry's girlfriend—which I am _not_, by the way." Hermione said, her hands balled into fists.

"I'm sure you wish you were, though." Malfoy said, before rolling his eyes. "_Every_ girl wants to be the great _Harry Potter_'s girlfriend."

"I have never, nor will I ever, want to be Harry's girlfriend. The very thought of it is outrageous. I don't like him at all in that way." Hermione defended.

"Then who do you like?" Malfoy asked slyly.

"I—" Hermione glared at him, angry that she had almost confessed who she liked. "It's none of your business who I like, but I _can_ assure you that it is definitely not you! Now can we move away from the subject?" She turned to check on the different, strange animals in the cages, using her wand to refill their water and food supplies, and cleaning up their living areas while she was at it.

"Why, Granger?" Malfoy whispered, extremely close to her, his breath tickling the back of her ear. "Does it make you _uncomfortable_?"

Hermione shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. She refused to look back at him as he placed his hands securely on her shoulders.

"I won't let you kiss me again, Malfoy." Hermione muttered lowly.

She heard a soft, deep chuckle next to her ear. "It's not like you've done well to stop me in the past. You always just give in and let me."

Hermione's cheeks flamed, and her eyes widened. The very thought that she would willingly let him kiss her was appalling! "I would never!" she whispered fiercely.

"Oh, but do you remember last year, before Krum so rudely interrupted us?" Malfoy whispered, his voice giving away his smirk so obviously to Hermione. "You kissed me back."

"I…I would never…" Hermione repeated weakly, although she clearly remembered last year's kiss—she hadn't forgotten either of the kisses she'd had with Malfoy. She had lost herself in the kiss, and hadn't remembered who was kissing her when she timidly returned it. She had been dancing all evening, and her head was low on oxygen. She had not been thinking right when she had replied to his gesture.

"Oh, but you would, and you did." He whispered, actually grinning in mischievous delight. "You turn to putty as soon as my lips make contact with yours—maybe even sooner. You kissed me back last time, albeit just a smidge, and you'll do it again this time."

"No I won't," Hermione replied, forcing herself not to fall to his will. Draco Malfoy had an excellent way of manipulating people—especially girls—into doing what he wanted. "Because you're not going to kiss me again."

He chuckled again briefly. "Watch me," he replied.

Hermione was about to reply, when she was suddenly turned around and pulled to Malfoy's chest, his arms wrapping around her torso and waist and trapping her against his Quidditch-honed muscles as his mouth crashed down onto hers, his eyes closed.

It wasn't even like he gave her a _chance_ to become putty in his hands, seeing as how she was unable to move, let alone try and push him away.

Hermione shook her head, making it hard for Malfoy to hold her lips with his. A deep growl emanated from his throat, and Hermione's eyes widened. Malfoy nipped her lip, drawing up a dot of blood, before sucking on it, and Hermione whimpered at the act.

"Kiss me back," Malfoy murmured softly against Hermione's lips before catching them again, and Hermione fought with what to do. She _really_ didn't want to give him the satisfaction of giving in to him, but he was _such _a good kisser that she could already feel her eyelids begin to slide down against her will and better judgment.

And, before Hermione knew it, she was kissing Draco Malfoy—of all people—back with almost as much determination as he was kissing her with. Kissing him just felt _so_ good…

It felt like hours before Malfoy unwrapped his arms from around her and stepped back.

Hermione was left with her eyes half-open and her lips swollen and red. She ran a hand through her hair, too stunned to say anything.

Malfoy, however, was smirking widely. "See, now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"You…" Hermione started slowly. She shook her head to clear her mind.

"Still numb with desire?" asked Malfoy, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"I…" Hermione looked around her surroundings, the world slowly seeping back in. She turned back to face Malfoy, although she kept her eyes down. "W-We should go up. The feast will probably be starting any minute now."

"Awe," Malfoy pouted, "but I'd _much_ rather stay down here with you."

Hermione shook her head again and turned away. "Do whatever you like, Malfoy, but I'm going back to the castle." She started walking away, not really caring if he followed or not.

She heard footsteps behind her a few seconds after she started climbing up the hill, though. And, to her utter humiliation, her knees wobbled and she almost lost her balance and fell. She heard Malfoy laughing behind her and glowered up at the castle.

"Glad that I made your knees weak!" he called, reminding her somewhat of something she had said to him earlier in the year.

Hermione did not reply to him, and kept on trudging back up to Hogwarts. She was going to go in, stuff her face during the feast, go up and finish packing her belongings, say good-bye to her friends, and then get on the train with Harry and Ron and Ginny and she wasn't going to think about him—not even once. She wasn't going to think about him at all the entire summer.

However, Hermione was very doubtful in her goal of pushing the ferret's existence to the back of her mind and out of her thoughts.

Because, with said guy only a few steps behind her, she knew that she still hated him, but she could not lie to herself and say that he was not one heck of a good kisser, because he was.

And, Hermione admitted to herself begrudgingly, Draco Malfoy was one sexy beast—and he knew it.

* * *

**Haha. I got a good laugh out of that last sentence, and I hope you did too. :D And Hermione really shouldn't beat herself up about it. Draco Malfoy _is_ a sexy beast. She just needs to get over that little tidbit and move on. ;)**

**I want to thank all of my wonderful, wonderful reviewers. Dramione fans are the absolute sweetest when it comes to reviews! All of your reviews made me smile, and I appreciate each and every one I get. You guys are too kind. :D Hugs! **

**(What? Hermione didn't punch Draco this chapter either? Even after he KISSED her? How outrageous! And she enjoyed the kiss? Gasp! Never fear though, Draco will get hurt plenty in the future. You'll definitely be seeing more punches, and maybe even a few kicks to the groin. Ouch!)**


	5. Five

**::five::**

_Fifth Year – Summer – Sixth Year_

"Hermione, I don't think that this is such a good idea." Harry told his female best friend worriedly.

She huffed. "Harry, I've got a headache and being inside Fred and George's shop isn't going to help any."

"But it could be dangerous. What if you run into a dark wizard?" Ron asked.

"I know how to hold my own, Ronald." Hermione said, annoyed at the interrogation.

"But what about Mrs. Weasley?" asked Harry, "She'll be worried sick if she finds out you've gone missing."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I haven't gone missing, Harry. Just tell her the truth: I went on a little stroll to get some fresh air. I've got my wand with me for protection, and I'll be back soon." She told her two best friends.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, Harry biting his lip.

"Just _go_." Hermione said through gritted teeth. Both boys looked at her once more before ducking underneath the Invisible Cloak and disappearing. She could hear their footsteps as they left.

Hermione sighed and slumped against the wall of a nearby shop. "Finally," she muttered, and then set about in the opposite direction.

She didn't know how long she had been walking, as she didn't carry a muggle watch on her, but she assumed it was a good few minutes. And she was rather distressed to discover that she had no idea where she was.

Hermione turned around in a circle several times as she stood in one spot, surveying her surroundings. None of them looked familiar.

"Well, well, well," Hermione froze as she heard a taunting drawl, "look what we have here. Lost, Granger?"

Hermione spun around to see Draco Malfoy leaning against the stone wall of a building, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he studied her from top to bottom with his eyes. He was surprisingly dressed in rather muggle clothes: a black long-sleeved button-down shirt with the cuffs folded up once, black jeans that were not too loose but not too snug either, and black sneakers. His hair was gelled back, a look that Hermione disliked intensely, and his entire appearance was clean and polished.

Hermione put her shoulders back and held her head high. "I am _not_ lost Malfoy." She said defiantly.

His eyes were level with hers, and she was unnerved to see him smirk mischievously. What was he thinking to make him smirk like that?

"Okay, Granger." He said with amusement in his voice as he decided to humor her. "If you were not lost, then what were you doing? Hoping you'd run into me?"

Hermione scoffed, "Hardly. I see you more than enough as it is. Why would I possibly want to see more of you?"

Malfoy shrugged, an innocent expression on his face. "I don't know—you got tired of kissing your pillow all summer in hopes that it would live up to me?"

Hermione's cheeks instantly reddened. She had not done such a thing, but that didn't mean that she hadn't thought about kissing him. And after he had mentioned it, she couldn't refrain herself from outlining Malfoy's lips with her eyes.

"See something you like, Granger?"

Hermione stepped back a foot, shaking her gaze from his lips. How could she even be thinking about something like that in a time like this? Just a little while earlier she, Harry, and Ron had seen Malfoy acting suspiciously in a shop in Knockturn Alley. And now here he stood in front of her, and all she could think about was the feel of his lips on hers.

Wait. Hermione froze. Did he know that they had been spying on him? Was this just his cruel way of working up to it? Or was he going to make her confess what she and her friends had been doing?

Hermione ignored Malfoy's most recent question and asked one of her own, "What are _you_ doing here?" She hoped he didn't notice that she was looking at his nose instead of his eyes. She really hoped that he didn't think she was looking at his lips again.

"Family matters to take care of." He replied smoothly.

Hermione mentally snorted. Likely story.

"Like what?" asked Hermione, faking curiosity.

"That," Malfoy said, pushing off from the wall and walking closer to her, "is none of your business.

"And why not?" asked Hermione as she looked up into his eyes. She was feeling very daring and brave at this moment in time, and decided to use it to try and get some answers—not that Malfoy would share any with her.

Malfoy evaded her question. "I can think of much better things I'd rather be doing than talking about it." He said as he came closer.

Hermione knew what he was going to do.

She took a step back and glared at him defiantly. "I don't think so, Malfoy."

"Awe, but why not?" he asked as his eyes danced in amusement and…something else, something…dark. "You know you love it."

"The word 'love' and anything having to do with you in the same sentence aren't compatible for me." Hermione said, before adding sarcastically, "Sorry."

"Come on," he said as he put his hands on her hips and pulled her a little closer. "You know that isn't true." His voice was deep and husky, and Hermione very nearly lost herself in it. She had never before heard him speak in such a voice, and she found it very…sexy.

Hermione snapped herself out of it. She placed her hands on top of his and pulled his hands off of her hips and shoved them at his chest.

"I'm not in the mood for this right now." She told him darkly. She vaguely noticed that she still hadn't let go of his hands yet.

Malfoy unexpectedly grinned devilishly, and Hermione's breath caught in her throat. His grin spelt trouble, as did his eyes, but it was also so…alluring. Hermione immediately snatched her hands back to herself.

"Stop looking at me like that," she demanded, a chill going down her spine, giving her goose-bumps on her arms.

"Like what?" he asked, his tone innocent, as he continued to grin in the exact same way.

"Like _that_," she said again, wrapping her arms around her. "And stop grinning at me."

"Why?" he asked as he slowly advanced on her, glad that she was too startled to counteract the move. "Does it make you…_uncomfortable_?"

Hermione bit out reluctantly, "Yes, if you must know, it does. Now stop it."

"Or what?" he taunted, his grin going back down to his usual arrogant smirk.

"I've got my wand with me." Hermione warned.

"And the fact that I haven't even attempted to assault you will go greatly in your favor in court." Malfoy said with a smirk. "And, really Granger—underage magic? I'm starting to think that Potter and Weasel aren't a good influence on you."

"Like you would know," Hermione retorted angrily. "You're a no-good Slytherin. I'm sure you break the rules all the time. In fact, I _know_ you do."

Malfoy got dangerously close, and his expression took on a dark look to it. "You don't know _anything_ about me, Granger."

Hermione looked at his eyes, trying to figure out just what he was thinking, what he was hiding.

Hermione swallowed her nerves and decided that she wasn't in Gryffindor for nothing. She just hoped that she wouldn't regret this.

Her small hands pressed themselves flat against Malfoy's firm chest and slowly slid up until they gripped his collar, bringing him forward. Malfoy's face lost all previous emotion, and his right eyebrow rose in curiosity.

Hermione bent her head up as Malfoy bent his down, and she brought her head forwards so that her lips just barely brushed Malfoy's.

"On the contrary, Draco Malfoy," Hermione whispered, and she noticed by the expression on his face that he liked hearing his full name—or maybe just even his first name—come from her lips in such a sensual way, "I know quite a bit about you. For instance, I know that right now you _really_ want a kiss."

"But the question is, Hermione Granger," Malfoy said, and Hermione almost melted on the spot at him saying her first name in the exact same way that she had said his, "are you going to give it to me, or am I going to have to take it?"

Hermione held her breath, brought her lips just a little bit closer toward his—until they were so close that if they both opened their mouths at the same time, they could easily transition into a kiss.

"You can have it if you can catch me, lover-boy." Hermione whispered softly, and Malfoy was just about to open his mouth and ask what she meant by that when she roughly pulled her head away from his, slammed her foot down onto his harshly, and pushed him back by her grip on his collar all at the same time.

And then she took off running in the direction behind her, hoping that she was going in the right direction of Fred and George's shop, as Malfoy swore loudly and clutched his throbbing foot.

Malfoy had to admit, though, that he was somewhat impressed by her little performance. Not only had she driven him half mad with her proximity and forwardness, for once taking the lead, but she hadn't turned to a puddle of goo at his feet when he had gotten close to her. She had held her own against his advances for once, and he smirked.

However, as he finally set his foot down and limped his way onto another street, he swore that he'd exact his revenge. The challenge she presented only served to further arouse his interest, and Malfoy never turned down a good challenge. Especially when the prize would be well worth the chase.

Draco Malfoy paused and looked in the direction that Hermione Granger had fled and vowed that he would, indeed, catch her—and then the little Gryffindor would be his.

* * *

**Seems to be getting a bit darker, yes? Good. (*cackles evilly*)**

**I don't know why I decided to have this take place in the summer between 5th and 6th years, but I'm glad that I did, for I think it turned out rather nicely. And it also seems that Hermione's getting a bit bold when it comes to Draco. What a tease. ;D**

**Well, I hope you like this chapter. Since Malfoy didn't get hurt at all last chapter, I thought it only fitting that he got _something_ done to him at least. No, it wasn't a slap or a punch. But a slam on the foot can really smart, as well. Plus, I need to give Draco's poor face a break. :D**

**So, I hope you liked it, and the next chapter will take place on the train going to Hogwarts-YAY! Hehe. I'll try to get the next one up soon. And remember to review the chapter. ^_^**


	6. Six

**::six::**

_Platform 9¾ _

Hermione shifted uncomfortably from where she was standing. Her belongings had already been loaded onto the train, and now she was just left to wait for Harry, Ron, and Ginny to show up. She didn't know what was taking them so long.

She had left near the end of the summer to return home to her parents so that she could visit with them before she had to go back to Hogwarts.

Hermione sighed and looked at the muggle analog watch on her left wrist. They were going to be late and miss the portal if they didn't hurry up. And she certainly wasn't going to miss the train waiting for them.

She tapped her foot impatiently as she looked around her at the other students and their families. Her parents had never been able to see her off because they couldn't get through the barrier. Hermione watched as a couple hugged their child, who looked like he was a first year, while their older child, maybe a third or fourth year, stood staring at them in boredom.

A tall figure with platinum blonde hair in her peripheral vision caught her attention, and Hermione turned to look at Draco Malfoy as he pushed his cart toward one of the luggage cars. She was surprised both to find him alone and to see him pushing his own cart. She would have thought that he'd bring a house elf to do it for him, or something.

Hermione didn't want to have a run-in with Malfoy so soon after she had left him back in Diagon Alley, especially after the way they had parted, but she couldn't keep her eyes from admiring his person. She had watched throughout the years as he transformed into the handsome young man he was now. He was tall, his shoulders broad, his muscles finely carved from all the long hours of Quidditch practice. He had a strong jaw, a sharp nose, sizzling grey eyes, and high cheek bones. His blonde hair was slicked back like it had been when she had run into him over the summer, much to Hermione's annoyance. Didn't he realize that he looked so much better with his hair natural, like the way he had worn it back in third and sometimes in fourth year.

Malfoy came upon the luggage car, and as a man was hauling his luggage inside, he looked around and his gaze caught Hermione's.

Malfoy gave her a smirk, his right eyebrow rising, and Hermione instantly turned away, her cheeks flaming.

A few seconds later, Hermione jumped as she heard a deep, low voice close behind her. She whirled around to meet the eyes of Malfoy, and Hermione shivered, taking an instinctive step backwards so that she wouldn't be so close to him.

Malfoy eyed her curiously, and Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione asked nervously, tapping her foot. She really wished the others would show up already.

Malfoy smirked and eyed her up and down. "I'd tell you, Granger," he met her eyes, "but I don't think you'd like the answer very much."

Hermione felt spiders crawl up and down her spine.

"Go away," she told him quietly as her eyes searched everywhere in her vision for her friends. "Harry and Ron will be here soon, and I don't feel like dueling right in the middle of the platform."

"What, worried I'd lose?"

Hermione turned her gaze back to him. "Worried you'd win, actually." She corrected.

Malfoy placed his hand over his heart, a look of mock surprise on his face. "Really, Granger, I had no idea you thought so highly of me as to be able to single-handedly defeat the great Harry Potter and his flaming sidekick."

Hermione's eyes widened, and then she glared at him. He may have referred to Ron as that because of Ron's bright red hair, but in the muggle world it meant something completely rude.

"You're going to regret staying here. Just leave already."

Malfoy looked around. "You know," he said seriously, "I actually will regret being here when Potter and Weasel show up. They've already killed off enough of my brain cells as it is throughout the years. I'd prefer to keep what's left of them."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry and Ron were loads better than the two dunderheads he hung out with.

"I'm sure that Crabbe and Goyle are wandering the train endlessly, looking for you. Why don't you just board it already and be gone?" Hermione said, spotting two heads of fire-y hair in the distance right as she finished her sentence.

"I can't. I'm still waiting for an apology."

Hermione looked at him with incredulous eyes. "For what?" she choked out in surprise. "I'm certainly not apologizing for stomping on your foot over the summer. You deserved it."

"Actually, I was referring to the end of last year, when you so wrongly—and idiotically, might I add—accused me of killing Potter's Godfather." Malfoy said, put then gave a thoughtful look, "However, not that you mention it, my foot did hurt for quite a while after you had your way with it."

Hermione scrunched up her nose. That last bit had not sounded right.

"I'm not apologizing for anything, Malfoy. I'd never apologize to you. You deserve no such respect."

"Really, Granger," Malfoy drawled. "Didn't your mother ever teach you any manners?"

"Yes, but manners don't apply when dealing with pricks." Hermione replied, scowling.

"Hermione!" called a voice somewhere in the crowd.

Malfoy turned to glance behind him.

"Well, as much as I'd love to stay here and engage in conversation with your morons, I have other places to be." Malfoy walked closer to Hermione, but she refused to back down. He stopped a foot in front of her. "I'll collect my dues in good time."

Hermione looked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Malfoy smirked. "You don't remember what you said to me during our last encounter? I do believe it was something along the lines of 'You can have me if you can catch me.' Something like that."

Hermione's cheeks could rival Ron's hair as she angrily defended herself, "I did _not_ word it like that!"

Malfoy shrugged. "It makes little difference if those were the exact words or not. The point is that you owe me, and there'll be no way of escaping when I come to collect."

Hermione visibly shivered.

"Hermione," this time the person was closer, and Hermione could make out that it was Harry who was calling her voice.

"That's my cue." Malfoy said. He winked, and then strode past her, his upper arm brushing against her shoulder lightly.

Hermione's stomach was all scrunched up when Harry, Ron, and Ginny arrived in front of her, grinning.

Harry was the first to take her up in a giant hug, and it wasn't until then that Hermione finally moved. Her arms wrapped around Harry's bigger form and she ducked her head in his shoulder. Harry had always made her feel safe when she was around him, like nothing could harm her. When he hugged her, it felt like the world around them had stopped, and she often felt as if she could fall asleep in his arms, she was so at ease. She didn't love him, not in the sense that two people would when they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. He was like her guardian teddy-bear. Always there, always dependent, always protective, and always kind to her—she couldn't remember a time when he had ever raised his voice at her or given her an angry look.

Harry stiffened in the hug. "Hermione?" he asked, his voice coming out right above her ear.

"Yes Harry?" Hermione asked, her voice muffled by the fabric of his jumper.

"Is everything alright?"

Hermione knew that Harry was concerned. When they usually all met up, Hermione and Harry would hug, and then Hermione would quickly move on to hug Ginny, and the two would happily talk about this and that. But this time Hermione didn't feel like moving. She felt like staying encompassed in Harry's big, warm arms forever, where nothing could ever go wrong.

She was hesitant to answer, but knew that she would have to. Hermione pulled back a little and nodded, bringing a small smile to her face. "Just tired is all." she replied. She would die if anyone ever found out about her and Malfoy. They would never forgive her. And, more importantly, she would never forgive herself.

Hermione noticed Harry glaring at something over her shoulder, and she turned to see Malfoy boarding the train, sending Harry a glare even more deadly. It was worse than the glares that Malfoy had sent Harry before.

If Hermione were conceited, she would have thought that Malfoy was glaring at Harry so harshly because she and Harry had been hugging intimately. But that couldn't be it, so Hermione just shrugged it off and turned back to Harry.

"Try not to let him bother you this year, okay Harry?" she gave him a smile. "I hate to see you upset."

Harry turned his attention back to Hermione and smiled warmly at her. He gave her a quick squeeze before releasing her.

"I'll try, 'Mione," he said, grinning, "but no promises."

Hermione turned to Ginny, and noticed that the younger girl had an odd look in her expression. Like she was hurt or…defeated.

Hermione pulled Ginny into a hug, wondering what the matter was. She'd be sure to ask her about it later.

After Hermione had released Ginny, she turned to Ron, who stood there awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck and looking at the floor.

Hermione laughed. "Ron," she said, drawing his eyes up from the floor as he peered at her through his fringe. He gave her a small, shy smile.

Ron reached forward, and they hugged lightly, awkwardly. The hug only lasted for a few seconds, and then Hermione was scowling at them all.

"So _why_ exactly were you all late?" Hermione asked, placing her hands on her hips. "And it had better be a good reason, because I'll have you know that I had to endure Malfoy all by myself before you three showed up and it was far from pleasant."

Ron and Harry's faces grew alarmed.

"What?" Ron spat out, his face stunned.

Harry, meanwhile, was scanning Hermione up and down. "Did he say something? Do something? Is that why you're not really feeling like yourself? I swear, if he did something to you, I'll—"

Hermione rolled her eyes and cut Harry off, grinning. "Harry, really, I'm _fine_. And no, Malfoy didn't do anything. I'm very capable of handling myself." _Handling myself against Draco Malfoy though, not so much—I'm still working on that. _"What he said was of little consequence. In fact, it's already forgotten. Now, come on. Let's get your stuff loaded on and then find a compartment."

Hermione looked at the large analog clock attached to an iron post and saw that there was only a few minutes left before the train would depart. Most of the students had already boarded by now or were boarding.

"Hermione," Ginny said. "You go find us a compartment while we get our stuff put away. Otherwise there might not be any room left."

Hermione nodded. "Alright." She said, starting to walk away. "See you guys on the train."

"Bye!" Ron and Harry shouted, while Ginny just waved as Hermione climbed the stairs onto the train.

Why did she have a bad feeling about the next few minutes?

* * *

**Hey guys, sorry I've been gone so long! School has been really, really hectic. :(**

**Here's the sixth chapter, though. Next chapter you'll get some kissy-kissy. Lol. :D**

**Thank you to all of you who have reviewed. You're all so sweet, and I look forward to hearing from you again. ^_^**


	7. Seven

**::seven::**

_Compartment Ambush_

Hermione took the aisle slowly, searching for empty compartments. Each compartment she checked was too full, and by the time she found an empty one, she was more than halfway down the train.

She sat herself down in the first empty compartment she had come across and sighed, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. She was ready to get to Hogwarts already, to sit down at the feast with her friends and listen to Dumbledore's speech, to retreat back to the Gryffindor common room and relax and laugh with her friends, friends that she hadn't seen all summer. And she was ready to do all of them without seeing Malfoy once.

Why did he have to single her out like this? She had been wondering the same thing ever since third year. But back then it was just something that seemed light, teasing. Now it felt like it was growing more serious, and she wanted it stopped. What if someone found them during one of his lip-attacks? Everything would change then. Harry and Ron already hated Malfoy enough. They'd hate him even more after, even more violently, and they'd do something stupid no doubt.

But what if they started to hate her too? Hermione wouldn't be able to live with that, with her friends hating her all because of Draco Malfoy.

No, this year would be different. She would set things straight, starting out with Malfoy and his disturbing interest in her. She'd make sure to have nothing to do with him.

Hermione heard the door to the compartment slide open and someone step in.

"That was fast," she said, assuming it was one of her friends, sent to find her. She rubbed her still-closed eyes as the door closed with a _click_. "Why are you so quiet?"

"Just admiring you like this."

Hermione jumped in her seat with a gasp and opened her eyes to see Malfoy standing in front of her.

She swallowed, her mouth dry. "Get out."

He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. "No."

Hermione stood. "I'm serious, Malfoy. Get _out_."

"Make me."

"Ugh!" Hermione shouted in frustration before pushing at Malfoy in a weak attempt to get him through the door. "Stop being so childish, Malfoy. Just leave me alone."

"What if I don't want to?"

"I don't _care_ what you want, Malfoy. But what _I_ want is for you to quit this…" she gestured to him with her hands, "whatever it is that you've got going on in that messed up head of yours. I don't know why you would ever want to willingly make contact with me, but it has to stop. You can't keep doing this—someone's going to find out." Hermione tried to reason with him.

Malfoy unfolded his arms and she took a step back, her hands to herself.

"Are you afraid?" he asked, his eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face in amusement.

"I don't want anyone to see us like this." Hermione said, "And what about you? What would your father think?"

Malfoy shrugged. All his life all he had ever tried to do was impress and please his father. And, honestly, what did he have to show for it? He was tired of it—why should he have to act like he was eleven for the rest of his life? "He's in Azkaban, what's he going to do to me?"

"Well…" she was desperately trying to find something, _anything_ she could use to try and make him change his mind, "what about the other Slytherins? How would they react if they ever found out about this?"

Malfoy paused for a second or two to actually consider this. How _would_ they react? He shrugged again. "They'd probably just slap my back and call me 'the man' for seducing the bookworm of the 'Golden Trio.'"

Hermione's cheeks reddened tremendously, and a chill raced through her body. That word just sounded…_dirty_…when coming from Malfoy's mouth.

Malfoy backed Hermione up against the window and placed a hand on either side of her head.

"And, really Granger, no matter how hard you try to fight it, that's exactly what I've done. Face it, you're smitten with me." He had that annoying, haughty smirk on his face.

"Oh get over yourself," Hermione spat, glaring at him.

"But you know that's what helps to make me so irresistible." He said, a dark grin on his face and he leaned his head in.

Hermione put her hands on Malfoy's cheeks, keeping him away from her face, if only for a moment or two. Malfoy was startled by this, and raised his eyebrows.

Hermione licked her lips, instantly regretting it as it gained Malfoy's attention immediately.

"Why me?" she asked the same question that she had after that first kiss back in third year.

Hermione's hands were loose on Malfoy's face. It was easy for him to continue forward and to meet her lips with his own, which is exactly what he did. Her hands fell onto his shoulders.

Malfoy pulled his mouth away from hers for only a couple seconds. "I don't know," he told her, his voice soft. "I honestly don't know."

Hermione was taken by surprise. She had never heard Malfoy use such a calm and soft voice before, especially not toward her.

She kissed him back slightly, still unsure from all the thoughts racing through her mind. He liked her—that much was beyond obvious. But why? How could he not know why he liked her?

The real question, though, was if she liked him. Sure, Hermione had returned his kisses before in the past, but each time it was really only to get out of his clutches, or, you know, because her head wasn't in the right place.

But, seriously, this was _Draco Malfoy_. Tormenter of her and her friends, let alone the rest of the school. This was the bad boy Slytherin that she heard girls whisper and giggle about. And she knew that any other girl would kill to be in her position, while she would kill to get out of it.

But she was just so confused. And conflicted. Malfoy had never given her a reason to like him, let alone fancy him.

_Was_ she smitten with him?

A ruckus out in the hallway drew Hermione's attention away from Malfoy, and her eyes snapped open. She heard Ron's loud voice.

Hermione pulled away from Malfoy. "Malfoy, you have to stop." She whispered.

"But I don't want to," he murmured, his lips finding their way back to hers and his hands tangling in her hair.

"Malfoy, _please_," she whispered desperately. "My friends are out in the hallway _right now_. I don't want them to find us like this."

Malfoy's hands instead started to travel down her sides, his fingers lacing themselves in the belt loops of her jeans. "Who cares about them?" Malfoy's voice was rough and he kissed her deeper. "I want you, Hermione." He whispered in between kisses.

Her eyes were brimming with tears. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed back with all her might. He budged only a little.

Malfoy opened his eyes and looked at her, panting slightly, just as Hermione was.

"This is wrong, Malfoy," she whispered, her voice pained.

Malfoy brushed his thumbs under her eyes. "Says who?"

"Everyone," Hermione replied, gasping for breath.

Malfoy shook his head. "They don't matter."

And he went in again. Except Hermione was running out of time, and out of options. He wasn't going to see reason, not right now anyway. So she did the only thing she could think of.

She squeezed her eyes shut, afraid of what she was about to do, and hesitated only slightly before driving her knee into Malfoy's groin.

He grunted and let go of her, falling back onto one of the benches in the compartment, one hand covering his wounded spot. He looked up at her, biting his lip—which Hermione had to admit got her heart racing even faster—and glaring at her with pain on his face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, only half meaning it. She quickly straightened out her hair and clothes before opening the door only enough so that she could slip through, and closed it behind her.

Her friends were walking up ahead, their backs turned to her, Ron and Ginny bickering about something and Harry looking in the different compartments for her.

Hermione took a deep breath, rubbing her eyes with her bare wrists and brushing her hair behind her ears.

She walked toward them, putting on a big smile, even though it was the exact opposite of what she felt.

"Hey, guys!" she called, getting their attention. They turned around, and a smile of relief was on Harry's face.

Ron grumbled. "_There_ you are. We've been looking everywhere for you. Where were you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Glad to know you care, Ron." She said light-heartedly. "I was just chatting with someone when I realized how much time had passed." She was sure that the train had already started moving, though she wasn't sure how long it had been.

"Well, you're here now," Harry said, "and we can find someplace to sit."

Hermione nodded and turned to Ginny. "What were you two fighting about?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Ron was just being an idiot, like usual."

"Hey!" he protested, and Hermione gave a small smile, glad to be with her friends again, where things weren't so serious, and where Hermione didn't have to make life-altering decisions.

They quickly found a completely empty compartment and filled it, Hermione and Ginny sitting on one bench and Ron and Harry sitting across from them.

Hermione didn't know if Malfoy had left the compartment they had been in, or what he was doing. She instead tried to think nothing of him, and only focus on the conversations taking place between her friends.

This was where she was supposed to be. She felt safe here, comfortable, easy.

She couldn't help but wonder, though, as the minutes drug on, if it wasn't Malfoy who wouldn't see reason, but her. Maybe she was the one that was wrong.

She didn't want to think about that. But his words in that small compartment haunted her.

Maybe Malfoy was right—maybe the opinions of everyone else didn't matter. But still. She couldn't risk everything just for a _maybe._ She couldn't risk everything just because she _might_ like him, _might_ feel something other than loathing for him. It was too high a price to pay for something that she would most likely regret later.

As she sat amongst her beloved friends, why did she feel so empty then?

* * *

**I'm a horrible person. I know. But school has been so immensly crazy that it took me forever to think of something to write for this story. And then today I started and couldn't stop. Now I'm going to go work on chapter 8 while I'm still on a roll. I hope you like this though, and accept my apology for being absent.**

**I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, or about this story anymore. I feel almost like I'm repeating myself. So things are going to be a little different on here from now on. You'll see what I mean. No more mindless kissing and hurting of Draco every chapter or so. That's what I started today, with the deep and serious thoughts that Hermione's been having all chapter. I want this story to really go somewhere. Where I'm not sure yet, but _somewhere_. We'll see what happens.**

**Love you all. :) Reviews are most welcome. In fact, they're what inspire me to put up a chapter faster. Nothing like a deadline to make the creative juices flow, or rather, _force_ them to flow. Lol.**

**See you next chapter. :D Remember: Reviews = Love.**


	8. Eight

**::eight::**

_A Talk_

Harry had been watching Hermione for half-an-hour now, and he was convinced that something was up. She hadn't been acting like her usual self ever since Ron, Ginny, and he had met her at the platform. Something _must_ have happened when Malfoy confronted her before they got there. He must have said something, did something, to unnerve her like this.

When he stopped to think about it, however, he realized that she had been acting off ever since that summer, when she had gone for a walk by herself in Diagon Alley after they had seen Malfoy doing something suspicious in one of the shops.

Something had to have happened to her during that walk…something that she wasn't telling him—or anyone else, for that matter.

And Harry, being himself, was going to find out. He couldn't stand something affecting Hermione like this. She was one of his best friends, and they had been through a lot together. No, he would get down to the bottom of this, and he would fix it. Because that's just what he did.

"Hermione," Harry said, and said girl turned to look at him. "Could you come out into the hall with me? I wanted to talk to you about something."

Hermione looked around her at Ron and Ginny, who were staring at the two of them. As she got up, she swore that there was something in Ginny's eyes that didn't look very pleasant.

Hermione walked out into the deserted hallway, Harry close behind her. He closed the door to the compartment and put his hands in his pockets.

"What did you want to talk about?" Hermione asked, nervous.

"Come on, let's take a walk." Harry said and then led the way.

Hermione followed him hesitantly.

After a moment of silence, Hermione walking beside Harry, the two of them fitting perfectly side-by-side in the hallway, she decided to get it over with, since Harry apparently wasn't going to. "Harry? What is it?"

Harry looked in front of them as they walked and set their pace slower. "You've been acting weird ever since this summer, 'Mione. And I'm concerned." He stopped and turned to face her, and she did the same.

Hermione looked down at her feet, her arms at her sides, her fingers playing with the hem of her light pink, long-sleeved shirt.

"Something's wrong." Harry stated firmly, confident in his observations.

Hermione shook her head, still looking at the ground. "Nothing's wrong, Harry." She told him, her voice small and quiet, even though she had been planning on making it louder and more assured-sounding. She had never been a good actor, or a good liar for that matter.

"Yes, there is. Why won't you tell me?" Harry said, his voice almost as quiet as hers.

Hermione peeked up at him through her eyelashes. This was Harry. There was nothing to be afraid about when with Harry. He would understand. He'd comfort her. He'd help her find a way out of it. He'd bloody up Malfoy in order to get him to leave her alone. Somehow, though, the thought of that made her sick to her stomach.

Hermione lifted her chin up and looked at him. If she told him that it had nothing to do with him, or that she could handle it by herself, she'd be both lying _and_ admitting that there was indeed something wrong. And then he wouldn't leave her alone about it until she confessed. But if she stuck to saying that there wasn't anything wrong, she'd be lying _and_ she'd be in this mess all alone.

"Hermione," he told her gently, his hand placed firmly on her right shoulder. "Whatever it is, I can help you."

She shook her head and forced a small smile. "There's nothing to help with, Harry, because nothing's wrong. Nothing's going on."

"Then explain your strange behavior." Harry demanded.

"Like what?"

"Well…" he faltered a little. "Like…like during the summer, after you took that one walk in Diagon Alley by yourself, when you came back, you kept looking over your shoulder, like you were expecting someone to be there, following you. And you jumped five feet in the air at every little thing that startled you."

Hermione bit her lip, not having anything to say to that. She had been rather jumpy for the rest of that day. Really, all she had wanted was to get out of Diagon Alley and go someplace Malfoy was sure not to be.

"And I know I asked you earlier on the platform if everything was alright, but I was thinking about the incident that happened right before we got to you." Harry said.

Hermione opened her mouth, ready to tell him that it wasn't an _"incident"_ but merely an unfortunate encounter, but he wouldn't let her speak.

"Malfoy _did_ do something, didn't he? He said something. He made you act even worse."

"I already told you that Malfoy didn't do anything." Hermione told him, her brows furrowed in frustration.

"Why did you hug me like that then? It was like you never wanted to let go, and it's not as if you fancy me or anything." Hermione cheeks shouldn't have burned, but they did. "And your greeting with Ron was even more awkward than usual." That was basically what her whole relationship with Ron was based on: awkwardness. "And then ever since we got on the train, you've been so silent, keeping to yourself. You haven't even opened a book, and that's very unlike you, Hermione."

Hermione didn't say anything. She instead chose to look on either side of them in the hallway to make sure that no one would sneak up on them and hear their conversation or to make sure that they weren't blocking someone who wanted to get through.

Suddenly a thought hit Harry like a brick over the head.

"Was it Ron who did something and not Malfoy?"

Hermione's head snapped back to Harry.

"I know he's not always the best with words, and he can be a bit of a slob and, well, did he do something to offend you?" he asked her.

Hermione knew that she shouldn't use Ron as a scapegoat, especially since Harry would then later confront Ron about something that he knew absolutely nothing about.

So, instead, Hermione shook her head. "No, this has nothing to do with Ron either. And I really wish you'd just drop it, Harry. I'm perfectly fine. Everything's fine."

"No, it's not, Hermione." Harry said sadly, looking at her with equally sad eyes, and Hermione almost melted with guilt and sympathy.

"Harry, I—"

"Well, look who it is." Hermione's hands balled into fists at her sides, her eyes already glaring. How many times was it possible to run into the same person in one day? Fate hated her. Or maybe it was proper karma for not telling Harry.

Harry and Hermione turned to look at Malfoy, who had his arms crossed and was smirking, although it felt like it was lacking something to Hermione. Harry didn't notice.

"Bug off, Malfoy." Harry told him angrily.

"Someone should've really informed you that the hallway is no place for snogging." Malfoy said, and while Harry only got angrier, Hermione's mouth dropped. The nerve of him! After _he_ had almost snogged the life out of her not an hour ago! Malfoy saw Hermione's shocked expression and his smirk got even wider.

Hermione noticed then that she and Harry _were_ standing a little close. She refrained from taking an instinctive step back. That would only make Malfoy happy.

Suddenly Harry's wand was out of his pocket and he was about to point it at Malfoy when Hermione grabbed his free hand and laced their fingers together.

"He's not worth it." She told him loudly, so that Malfoy would definitely hear it.

She pulled Harry by his hand, brushing past Malfoy. "Come on, Harry." She said after she had passed Malfoy. "Let's go _snog_ in a compartment, where we won't be interrupted."

Hermione didn't look back and was glad that Malfoy hadn't stopped them. She was inwardly grinning over her little victory. Let Malfoy boil over _that_. He had, after all, accused her of being Harry's girlfriend at the end of the last school year. With any luck Malfoy would believe that they actually _were_ going to snog and would then leave her alone for the rest of her life.

Did Hermione believe it?

Not a chance.

Hermione pulled Harry back to their compartment and opened the door, dragging him inside. She looked at him and saw that he had put his wand away already, thankfully.

She hadn't noticed, however, that their hands were together still until both Ron and Ginny cleared their throats at the same time.

They both blushed as they took their hands back to themselves and sat down across from each other.

Hermione saw from her peripherals that Ginny was giving her a nasty look, and she felt the very childish urge to stick her tongue out at her.

"What was that all about?" Ron asked, his eyebrows up.

"Just getting out of a sticky situation," Hermione told him nonchalantly. "It was either hold hands or have Harry blast someone into oblivion. _We_," here she gave Harry a pointed, you'd-better-thank-me look, "decided to take the option that wouldn't get anyone into trouble."

"Or you could have just been cozying it up out there and were too messy to cover your tracks." Ginny said.

Harry shook his head. "Guys, I've got a theory I need to share with you."

"Are you sure you don't want to just share it with Hermione out in the hall again?" Ginny asked, her eyes narrowed.

"Gin, this is serious." Harry told her, obviously annoyed that she was getting so bent out of shape over it all.

"What is it mate?" Ron asked, forgetting almost entirely about the previous topic.

"I think Malfoy might be a Death Eater."

Hermione choked on the oxygen she had currently been breathing.

"What?" Ron asked, surprised.

"Well, I mean, all the hints are right there, he—are you okay, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded, tears in her eyes. She coughed and said in a wheezy voice, "Go on."

Harry was hesitant, but continued. "Well, it would only make sense for him to be made a Death Eater. His father's one, and it would be beneficial for Voldemort to have someone inside the school. He'd be able to get to us and carry out whatever plans Voldemort might have."

"But Harry," Hermione protested, her voice better, "I know that that all sounds good, but do you really think that Dumbledore would let a Death Eater be a student at his school? He can't possibly be one."

"It's just this intense feeling I get." Harry said. "Be reasonable Hermione. It does all make sense."

"I don't know…"

"I think you might be right, Harry." Ron said.

"This is just crazy." Hermione proclaimed. She wasn't sure whether she was trying to convince Harry or herself.

"Maybe," Harry agreed, "but I might be on to something here."

Hermione shook her head.

"Malfoy can't be a Death Eater."

"And why can't he?" Harry asked.

Because she couldn't believe it; she couldn't believe that the guy who had been assaulting her lips these past years was one of Voldemort's lackeys; because it changed who she had known for years even more. She didn't want to see Malfoy in this new light—she didn't want to see him as someone other than the average, pureblooded, snobby bully. She didn't want to see him as an actually deadly foe.

If it was true, that would make this situation she was in even more dangerous, even more unforgivable. If Malfoy turned out to be a Death Eater, then no one, not even Harry or Ron, would ever forgive her, even if she claimed that those kisses had been against her will.

This would make things even more difficult when she tried to get out of this…whatever it was with Malfoy if Harry's theory was true.

Harry stood up and pulled down his rucksack from the rack above one of the benches. He reached inside, fished around a little bit, and brought out his invisibility cloak.

"I'm going to see what he's up to now."

"Harry, don't." Hermione warned. "You could get caught."

"I won't get caught, Hermione. Besides, I need to find some evidence, apparently, to convince you that Malfoy's not just Malfoy anymore. I'll catch you guys later."

"Harry!" Hermione stood, calling out to him, but he had already covered himself with the cloak and left.

She sighed and sat back down, putting her head in her hand.

Hermione couldn't—wouldn't—believe that Malfoy was a Death Eater, because she didn't want it to be true.

* * *

**_Another_ chapter? I think I deserve some love, people. You know what kind of love I'm talking about (*cough*reviews*cough*).**

**And oooo, looks like Draco's getting double-jealous. Muwahahahahaha. (Lol.)**

**I forget whether Harry came up with his Draco-Is-Actually-Legit-Evil theory before or after he went to spy on him, so I'm just going to put it before. No hating if I'm wrong!**

**I just saw Deathly Hallows Part 1 last night. Who else has seen it? Would you agree with me in saying that it was BLOW-YOUR-MIND-AMAZING? Or did you not like it? State what you liked or didn't like about it in your comment if you've seen it, and then I'll know that you read this. Yay! :D**

**Oh, and girls (and guys too), was it just me, or was Ron super hot when he was going all evil in the movie (aka when he was getting really angry while wearing Tommy-Boy's pendant-thingy)? Actually (and I don't even like Ron), I thought he was looking mighty fine the entire movie. I know, I know. All you Dramione fans are grabbing your pitchforks, but seriously. .Yummy. Speaking of Yummy, did you catch Jamie Campbell Bower as Grindlewald? _-drools-_ Bonnie Wright, I will sooo wrestle him away from you. I could take you any day. Just kindly drop your wand over there.**

**Oh, and because this Author's Note isn't already long enough (yeah, I know, I'm boring you), if any of you have ever come across a fanfic that was Ron x Hermione with Ron dark or evil or bad or whatever, could you please tell me what it was? I was trying to find one after I got home last night, but my quest was fruitless, sadly enough. I'd really appreciate it.**

**Okay, I'm going to go now...**


	9. Nine

**::nine::**

_The Carriage, Part 1_

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were all in their robes when the Hogwarts Express stopped. They hadn't seen Harry since he had left.

"See, what did I tell you? Something had to have happened to him." Hermione told them as they left the compartment.

"Well, maybe he…saw Neville and Luna and stopped to talk to them? Or Dean and Seamus?" Ron said, although it came out as more of a question than a statement.

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I doubt it," she said, leading the three down the crowded corridor. "He would have come back already if that was the case. Harry must have gotten into some kind of trouble—you know how easily he comes across it."

"So what do you suggest, we look for him?" Ron asked, and Hermione gave him a pointed look that said "Of course, Ronald."

"I'll look for him," Ginny volunteered.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron said, ignoring his little sister. "Harry's a big boy. He can look after himself. Don't worry about it."

They stopped once they were on the platform and out of the way of the exit. "I'm sorry, Ron," Hermione said, placing her hands on her hips, which was never a good sign. "Please, can you tell me how many times we've almost been expelled? Or, better yet, how many times we've almost ended up dying or gravely injured, even while on school grounds?"

Ron slumped in defeat. "Fine. But you're not coming with me. If Harry has been in some sort of trouble, he doesn't need you berating him."

Hermione bristled. "Fine," she countered.

"I'll go with you," Ginny offered again.

"See you at the feast," Ron said and then walked off. Ginny trailed after him, clearly annoyed at being ignored.

Sighing, Hermione made her way to the carriages. Most of the ones left were all full, and she forced herself to pay more attention to any open seats rather than the unnerving thestrals she could now see. They were disturbing creatures.

"Pardon me," Hermione said upon reaching one of the few carriages left that she hadn't stuck her head into, "is this one all—" her eyes met steel grey ones "—full?" She hated the way a small bud of warmth burrowed inside of her at the sight of him, and she tried to bury it completely.

"Hello Granger."

Hermione looked down. "I see this one is full. Sorry I bothered you." She made to step away when Malfoy reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Oh come on, it's just me."

"Malfoy," Hermione said lowly, tugging at her wrist.

"There's nowhere else to sit, Granger." Indeed, more and more carriages were leaving. "Get over yourself and climb in here. It won't bloody kill you."

Hermione's mouth opened to protest that it was _he_, not she, who needed to get over themself. When she felt a lurch, she was astounded to find herself sitting across from Malfoy in the now-moving carriage. When had she entered? She was going mad, most certainly—they both were.

"Well…now that we're alone, we should really talk." Hermione said.

"Oh yay," Malfoy replied sarcastically, staring out the window. "Whatever about?"

"About our situation," she said, "and the abnormality of it."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, still looking out the window. "And here I thought physical attraction was a normal occurrence. How wrong of me."

"It's more than that and you know it. There should be an explanation behind this, but you are unable to provide one." Hermione said.

"Really, Granger?" Malfoy interjected, turning to face her and suppressing a groan. "We're doing this_ now?_ Just a few hours ago you kneed me in the _groin_, and now you want to dissect everything?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "Well I'd like to before you become unreasonable again."

"Funny, I seem to be feeling my control slip from me as we speak." Malfoy remarked drily.

"Honestly, Malfoy, can't you be serious for once in your life right now?"

"I seriously want your body right now. Does that count?"

"You're disgusting," Hermione remarked with a grimace.

Malfoy looked at her cruelly. "Funny, that's what I would have called you once. What I should be calling you still."

Hermione bit her cheek and blinked back the hurt. She couldn't let him see how much he affected her.

"If you plan on pursuing me, you could at least be a little nicer," she said quietly. "For all I know, this could be one big joke on me, trying to degrade and humiliate me. A bet, or a dare. Anything to get a laugh over on a mudblood who you would have fall in love with you."

Malfoy's look softened slightly. "Trust me, if this was a dare or a bet, I'd be acting a lot nicer to you. I have to throw in a jab or two so that you know I'm still me, that it's all real."

Hermione breathed out deeply and looked out the window, because she couldn't look at him in that moment. "If I ask you questions, will your answers be honest?"

"It's not an impossibility, but no promises."

Figuring that was as good as she was going to get, Hermione went on. "Is it only my body you want?"

"Yes," he answered quickly. Hermione bit her lip. "No," he breathed out slowly. She wanted to believe that answer—the one that inspired a secret hope, even though she knew it would be easier to distance herself from him if she believed the first.

"Earlier…you said that you didn't know why you 'like' me," even the thought that anyone, let alone Malfoy, would was still hard to believe. "Is that really true? You must have some idea of why, something."

She looked at him right as he looked away from her. She didn't know he'd been watching her.

"I don't," he said, resigned. "Sometimes I can't stand the thought of you, but then when I see you, I can't stand not being by you, holding your attention. I really don't know why." Malfoy replied, gripping the seat cushion he was sitting on.

"You promised me in fifth year there was nothing between you and Potter," he said suddenly, before she could think of what to say next.

Hermione looked him over, saw the way he was chewing his bottom lip and how his brows were furrowed. She wanted to smooth his face with her hands, her fingers.

"There's not."

His eyebrows rose at her answer, before his lips gradually smirked. His face was smug; smooth from what she thought might have been worry. "Really now?" he asked, his tone sending chills down Hermione's back. "Were you trying to make me jealous?"

"No," Hermione said, forcing herself not to cross her arms.

"Tease," he rebuked playfully.

Well…maybe the thought had crossed her mind briefly earlier…

Hermione shook her head to rid herself of such musings. Such as wanting to stifle his smirk with her own l—

"There must be a reason behind our emotions, then, if what you've been saying is true." Hermione said to distract herself.

"Yeah, we're sixteen-year-olds with hormones. What could be more natural than that?" Malfoy said like it was the simplest thing in the world.

"But don't you think it odd, that it's the two of us? It would make much more sense if you were in Gryffindor," or really any house other than his, "or if I was in Slytherin."

Malfoy grinned. "I like the image of you in green."

Hermione rolled her eyes and tried to ignore him and that warm feeling. "My point is that we are so different. You detest muggles and I was raised with them. You're aristocratic and vastly wealthy and pureblooded and I'm, well…not. The likeliness of this match is extremely rare."

Malfoy shrugged. "So we're breaking the norm. You're mates with Potter—you _must_ be a secret rebel."

"_Nothing_ about this strikes you as odd?"

"Oh, everything about this is weird, but that doesn't change anything." Malfoy said, suddenly biting his lip. Hermione noticed how his knuckles were white around the edge of the seat.

"Malfoy?" she asked hesitantly, studying him carefully. His grey eyes were cloudy. "Are you alright?"

He chuckled breathily and Hermione swallowed deeply, her throat and mouth suddenly dry. "Peachy. I'm just overwhelmed with the desire to cover your body with mine."

Hermione's nose wrinkled. "Malfoy—"

"I _am_ being serious. Around you I just can't control myself sometimes, and now is turning into one of them. It's especially bad when we're alone." Like now.

There were a few seconds of silence, where they both stared out the windows. Looking at her was getting hard for him, and looking at him was making her incapable of thinking.

"I've got it!" Hermione said with an excited gasp. "I know why we feel this way!"

"Oh, do share," Malfoy said, his knuckles tightening.

"You can't control yourself because you're part Veela, and when we were in third year, we made contact for the first time when I punched you, and your latent Veela characteristics began to come out and you came to discover that I'm your mate!"

Malfoy laughed loudly and painfully. "I never took you for being creative, but wow." He said with a real smile, and Hermione thought she might lose herself too. "And it's definitely far more believable than us liking each other of our own accord."

Hermione tried to scowl at him, but couldn't tell if it worked or not. "Well it was a plausible—if far-fetched—theory. And I never said I liked you." ...had she?

"You didn't?" Malfoy asked, his eyebrows raised. "I must have forgotten." His face was still bright with pleasant amusement, and Hermione briefly thought that she _could_ like such a face.

"Or…what if we've been placed under an enchantment? It would explain the anomaly of our pairing." Hermione suggested.

"Are you saying that being with me is magical?" Malfoy asked and winked. There was something infuriatingly attractive about his arrogance. Hermione couldn't begin to understand it.

"All I'm saying is that those two theories make a great deal more sense to me than my liking a prick simply because I do." Hermione confessed.

"I will ignore that insult because, what was that? An admission to liking me? I must be able to see the future—I knew those divination classes would pay off. Next you'll fall madly into my arms," he winced, "preferably before I become absolutely 'unreasonable.'" He quoted her from earlier.

Hermione tensed. "Malfoy," she said slowly. "If not touching me right now is causing you any sort of pain at all, then something _has_ happened to us, or at least to you."

Malfoy licked his lips. "I'm not in pain or anything, it's just that I'm filled with an incredible urge. And I'm not used to denying myself things."

Maybe that was why Hermione could push similar feelings of her own to the side, because she had more self-control and self-restraint. If she unchained herself entirely, it was likely that she could act just like him.

A large dip in the road interrupted Hermione's busy mind and Malfoy's struggle as it caught them unaware and sent Hermione tumbling into him.

She didn't turn to jelly or goo or putty by Malfoy's touch—that wasn't it. All their past experiences, when she hadn't really fought back and had instead given in, were because of her own self-control failing. Her characteristic stubbornness and fight had always fled, and maybe this was why; brief lapses in her sturdy wall.

Malfoy steadied her with his hands on her hips, and it was only then that they realized the position they were in.

She was sitting on his lap, straddling him, their chests pressed together and his back resting against the back of his seat.

Hermione could sense that this was about to be one of those times when her wall cracked and her control surrendered.

* * *

**Just...so you know that I'm alive. I've been working on ideas for both this and my story **_Take Your Breath Away_**. For the longest time I had no clue what to do with either, so now I know exactly where I want them to go. I just have to get there, which will be the hard part. However, in the mean time, this story is being moved off of Hiatus. :)**

**This is a rewrite. I previously wrote this chapter and then accidentally deleted it. So I rewrote it within the same night and this one is better, as rewrites typically are. More in-character and less heart-to-heart lengthy paragraphs of explanation. **

**Also, shameless plug: I have a twitter account now to keep you updated on my stories, if you're interested. It's ** thestorypirate**. Just so you'll know that I'm not dead and I haven't forgotten about you. I hope you enjoyed this. :)**


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